Repeat Number Two
by Ksister
Summary: A Loki-fanatic madman is out to finish what Loki has started: takeover of the world. He has the upper hand, knowing everything that has happened and predicting how everyone will act accordingly. The Avengers have no way to escape this trap. Unless they use an extra variable in the equation: an outsider. (SEQUEL TO SOLITARY BUT CAN BE READ ALONE)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm back! How've you all been? Uploading this first chapter for the sequel to ****_Solitary _****took longer than I expected, but it's worth the wait. I've written 8 chapters already so will able to post them regularly (I'm thinking once every two weeks?)**

**For those of you who haven't read the previous story, don't worry. You can read this without knowing anything about the prequel. The prequel was actually just a really long prologue to this story. If you really want to know...**

**A girl named Elizabeth Turner gets picked up by Steve Rogers after he finds her being hunted by an illicit underground association - S.A.G.E. - doing illegal biological experiments. She has the ability of telekinesis and force fields. With her help, the Avengers take down S.A.G.E. After this, she is under the protection of S.H.I.E.L.D., but not an agent (because she is underage).**

**That's pretty much all you need to know!**

**This chapter is just a summary of the previous story and a lead up to future events. If you don't want to read it, you pretty much only need to read the last two sentences.**

**I hope you enjoy this story. It's one of my favorites in this trilogy.**

**And so, let us begin!**

* * *

><p>I check my watch for the umpteenth time, cursing that final report that was due today as I hurry down the long corridors. Seriously, though, I can't understand the length of corridors on a jet like this. Surely, there must be a limit to these hallways. Or maybe they just go round and round. <em>I'm late, I'm late, I'm very very late<em>... I mutter the rhyme that the White Rabbit says in Alice in Wonderland, a tale about freakish happenings in a strange world. _How fitting_, I think. I look at the time and, even though it's against the "rules", I start sprinting. I'd rather break that insignificant rule than be late for possibly one of the most important meetings in my life. Finally, I turn the corner that will lead me to the meeting room. And then I bump into someone.

I let out a surprised grunt and then, after my initial reaction to fight quickly subsides, I say, "Sorry!" I look up to see the person who I've bumped into.

"No prob - " he doesn't finish his sentence as he looks at me.

"Mr. Rogers!" I exclaim. I am overjoyed to see him after all these years. I've wanted to keep in touch, but could never find a way. He's good at going undercover. There will be so much to catch up on... But my excitement is quickly replaced with fluster. I had direct orders to avoid him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. As soon as he says it, he realizes the answer. With a dark face, he grabs my wrist and practically drags me to the room. I try to pull myself out of his grip, but I know it's useless. We enter the door with a dramatic slam. "Why is she here?" he demands of Fury.

"You're late. Sit down," he merely replies. Rogers reluctantly complies, still looking angry, which is a first for him. With a less patient tone Fury says to me, "I thought I'd told you to stay out of sight."

"I tried, sir, but he intercepted me outside the door."

"Sir? You call him 'sir' now?" Tony asks incredulously.

"Hi, Tony," I say, smiling slightly at his attitude, ever the same.

"You can't call him that! Then I'll be the only one who doesn't refer to him like that," he complains, already starting to sulk.

"Sir," Rogers starts, to which Tony gives me a knowing look, "you haven't answered my question. What is she doing here?" He enunciates each word in the last sentence. Fury sighs impatiently.

"I'm sure you've already figured it out, but she's here to join the mission," he states.

"Which is?" I ask, half because I want to divert the attention from myself, and half because I really am interested. It's my first mission ever, other than the takeover of S.A.G.E. And that doesn't count, because I barely did anything. Unfortunately, no one pays any attention to what I just said.

"So she's an agent now? She's just a kid," Barton says. He refers to me as if I'm not standing right in front of him. How rude. It was so hard avoiding him ever since I started staying here. He should appreciate that.

"I didn't pass the physical test," I say as my answer. Rule number one in the Dummies Guide to Deception: if you aren't confident enough to lie, don't say the truth. But, of course, Romanoff can spot that from a mile away.

"I thought you said she wouldn't join the team," Romanoff says, knowing that my answer has just implied a "yes". As always, her memory is perfect. I just wish it weren't so at this particular moment.

"That was when she was a minor. She's turned eighteen now," Hill says. I've met her a couple of times before during meetings and in the hallways, although I've never actually talked to her. As Fury's second-in-command, I don't think I really want to. I believe she's here to brief the mission, because I know she has a meeting in a couple of minutes. "It's up to her to decide what she wants to do."

"Just because she wants to join doesn't mean she should. You said you wouldn't use children," Bruce interrupts, drumming his fingers on the table nervously. He looks extremely uncomfortable, though I'm not sure whether it's because of me of whether it's because he remembers the last time he was here. I don't think it ended well.

"We have no control over what she does," Hill replies. With that, she leaves the room.

They argue for a little while longer. Over me. I sigh. This is getting much too similar to a conversation in the past. I clear my throat very loudly, so that they all look at me.

"Look, I'm here to help the team. If it is going to break it instead, I might as well not be here. So, I'll leave. Happy?" I ask. There's no answer. "I'm sorry, sir," I say to Fury, and then take my leave. He looks disappointed that I'm not joining in. I know that he really wanted to test my limits.

I reach the door and even have my hand on the handle when I hear it.

A great explosion.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: This chapter was pretty much summing up everything in the prequel, but I thought it sets the scene well. The next chapter holds all the action!**

**Till next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm back with this new chapter! Thanks so much to everyone for your support. Your favorites, follows, and reviews are what keep me going. And so I'd like to take the time to reply to your reviews. Thanks so much again :)**

**19irene96: Thank you :) I hope you'll continue to enjoy this!**

**Minimonstrosity: I'm so happy you liked Solitary! And that you like this one too. I'll work hard to continue to impress you!**

**Bookcrazysongbird: Yes, out of all the four planned in the series, I think this concept is the most original. Thanks for reviewing!**

**And thanks to everyone else who has favorited and/or followed this story. It really means a lot to me.**

**Now, enough of me... onwards with the story!**

* * *

><p>His first reaction when he hears the explosion is to press himself to the floor, covering his head to protect himself. Everything from then on is just a matter of routine. He mentally checks his weapons, regretting not bringing his arrows, but knowing that he has a gun in his holder that will suffice. His next step is to get a good view of the situation, preferably from above, to assess the event and find out how everyone else is. He gets up, and from there the routine is bungled.<p>

He cannot move.

The smoke clears up enough for him to see a blue glow around his feet. _That can't be good_, he thinks. He tries his best to stifle the cough that is rising on account of the smoke, but can't help but let it out a couple times. He tries once again to take a single step, but finds that he can't. He curses again, and instead tries to take a good look from where he is. He sees the hazy silhouettes of his teammates, except for Tony and Bruce, standing like he is, confused. The smoke clears more every second, and soon it is gone.

From the corner of his eye, he can see a figure standing a couple of meters from where they are. Immediately, he reaches for his gun, only to find that it is not there. Although he knows that it is impossible for him to have gotten confused, he tries his other pockets. They're not there either. Romanoff has the same trouble, he sees, not being able to find any of the many weapons she always carries, most of them hidden in unknown places. He knows he has a hidden knife in his boot, but can't risk bending down, in case whoever has done this notices and takes that away too. He carefully moves his foot around and feels the metal holder still in place.

A man clothed in golden armor and a scepter comes up to them. He looks familiar. Much too familiar. Barton's breath is caught in his throat. The man takes a step nearer and Barton can see that although their costumes are the same, he is not Loki. Still, a chill runs down his back at the memory of him.

"Hello, my dear friends," the man begins with a wide grin. "I've been waiting for this day for a long while."

"Who are you?" Fury asks, also imprisoned in the same gear and weaponless.

"And why are you impersonating Antlers?" Tony adds, finally having stood up after much difficulty. The glowing object around the legs makes it difficult to move around for someone not too fit.

"Antlers? Ah, I see. You are referring to Loki," the man says in a calm, deep tone. "I am not impersonating him. I have merely taken up his task that he must finish. And that you have prevented," he says, looking at each of them with an angry expression. _Brainwashed_, Barton thinks to himself, remembering not too happily his own time under the spell. But then he notices that the man's eyes are still brown, not blue. _Mad man_, he rectifies. One can identify them by their long speeches.

"And why do you feel the need to finish his plan?" Barton tries asking.

"He was going to make the world a better place. But you stopped him from doing it. And so I must finish what he has started. I've planned this for a while now. I know each part he did wrong, each variable in the equation. This cannot fail," he finishes, again with a smile. _Yes, a long speech indeed, _he thinks. Now they just need to find a plan…

The man steps forward with his scepter in front of him, interrupting his thoughts. "Now, now," he says, "the troublemaker first, or the easiest one?" He surveys Bruce and Barton with a hungry stare. Barton feels another chill thinking of all the things he had done... It can't happen again. It just can't.

"Barton, it's going to be alright. He's not going to do it," Romanoff says in a low voice. "You're going to be ok." As always, she can know what he's feeling at a glance. But this time he has difficulty believing her.

The man advances towards Barton. "I'll start with you," he says.

"Over my dead body," Barton growls, tensing his muscles.

"Oh, I'm sure that's only a matter of time. It should be easier the second time round. You remember how this goes," he says, bringing the scepter a bit closer. Barton wants to move, he needs to move, but can't. The scepter approaches ever closer.

And it stops a foot in front of his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello, everyone. I'm sorry I'm uploading this on Wednesday, not Saturday. I was actually hospitalized last week because I was sick... I'm better now so don't worry!**

**Sorry to keep you on a cliffhanger!**

* * *

><p>I am immensely satisfied when I hear the soft 'ting' of the metal tip on my force field. When the explosion had occurred - thankfully far enough to have left me unhurt and unfazed - I had used the smoke as a cover to hide between the huge metal filing cabinets. The cabinets were a great place to watch the events unfold, so much so that I started to wonder whether they were placed there for that very purpose. I wouldn't be shocked if they were.<p>

The crazy man is at first confused. Although I'm looking at him from behind, I notice his hesitation and bewilderment. He tries pushing the scepter again, only to fail once more. He taps the edge with his tip, finally realizing what is going on. After that, he becomes angry. With a theatrical roar he lunges at the invisible wall, which would surely have impaled Barton had the wall not been there. He does that a couple more times, and then ends up panting from the effort. "What is this?" he bellows at them.

"Another variable in the equation," Tony smirks.

"I suggest you surrender before the situation escalates," Fury says. His tone has a severity and chilling edge to it. I hope the costumed guy agrees, because I don't know what to do next if he doesn't. Sure, I've protected them for now, but they are still incapacitated. But the man ignores him.

He paces around the invisible dome a couple of times, muttering something to himself. He stops in front of Tony. "'Another variable', you said. Another person. A rat," he finally says. The smirk on Tony's face immediately disappears. The man nods. "Yes, I am correct." He surveys his surroundings and I crouch a little lower, trying to make myself smaller. His eyes stop where I am. That can't be good.

A blue ray shoots out from his scepter and I dodge to my left, barely avoiding the toppling cabinet and the ray that has burnt a hole through the metal. But now I'm out in the open. I reach for my gun, only to find that it is not there. My confusion costs me greatly. I manage to dodge a second blast but have to get on all fours. "Watch out!" I hear Barton shout. I look up to see that the man is gone. Suddenly, I feel someone grab me from behind and then I'm flying across the room. I hit the wall hard, feeling my bones rattle. For a moment I can do nothing but slump to the floor. A hand grabs my collar and I feel the sharp tip of a scepter against my throat.

"Remove the shield," he growls.

"You want me to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. by myself? You think that's possible?" The best plan of action is to feign ignorance.

He looks at me with clear annoyance. With his hand still grasping my collar, he briefly removes his scepter and fires a blast at where they are. I've been distracted. Quickly, I raise my hand to strengthen it. The blue light dissipates in all directions when it hits it. But my hand is still raised in the air as a clear sign. I smile sheepishly. "Got me," I say. _Smart_, I curse him in my mind.

He surveys me up and down, as if really looking at me for the first time. "The rat was a child?" he finally asks.

I facepalm myself. "Is everyone going to say that today?" He shakes his head, to clear away his unnecessary thoughts, I presume.

"Remove it," he repeats.

* * *

><p>"Now would be a good time to unleash the other guy, Banner," Romanoff says under her breath.<p>

The sweat glistens on his brow. His breathing is heavy and raspy.

"You ok?" Tony asks, slightly alarmed. The transformation is usually quick, not labored like this.

"It's not working," Bruce finally says.

* * *

><p>"Hey, isn't that Loki's scepter? Do they sell second-hand super evil weapons?" I ask to distract the man. With the tips of my fingers I try to find something to knock him out. I can't look and risk having him slit my throat. But it's so hard to lift something without looking at it. It's almost like being blind, having to feel everything tentatively. And the fact that everything is bolted down doesn't help.<p>

He presses the tip a little harder, as if to persuade me to listen to him. As if that's ever going to happen. "Hey, careful," Rogers says, "she's still a kid."

* * *

><p>"Try again," Barton says, using Rogers's conversation with the man as a cover.<p>

"Can't you see I am?" Bruce almost shouts, barely refraining himself. He is obviously mad. And the fact that he is still Bruce is a shock to all.

* * *

><p>"Tell her to remove it before I kill her," he threatens. Rogers opens his mouth to actually start trying.<p>

I roll my eyes. "Look, we both know you can't kill me. Stop with the façade, all right?" He laughs once.

"Do you seriously think that I can't get rid of you?" he asks. His American accent is starting to slip in, instead of all that archaic English he was using.

"I don't doubt your capability. But if you've 'planned so long for this day' I'm sure you wouldn't risk it," I respond. He is obviously hooked.

* * *

><p>"She's trying to stall," Romanoff observes. They all look at the girl pinned to the wall.<p>

"We should help."

* * *

><p>"What, you really don't know about me?" He looks at me blankly. With my free hand I dramatically place the back of my hand to my forehead. "The shame, the dreadful shame." I imitate his theatricality. His eyes narrow.<p>

"Alright, kid, fess up. What are you talking about?" Yes, he's starting to use slang. He tightens his grip a little tighter so that I just have a little more trouble breathing.

"Well, if you're that keen on knowing..." I've found an object light enough for me to lift without seeing: a metal chair. Now I just need to raise it up. That's the hard part. "You kill me, that thing," I nod over to where they're all standing, locked into place, "stays forever. And that means you will never get to do what you want."

He takes a couple seconds to comprehend this information. Then, with a frustrated growl, he bangs my head once on the hard metal wall. I let out a small grunt and use all my effort not to drop the chair. I'm not sure whether he was trying to knock me out - smart, if that's true - or whether he was just mad. I highly suspect the latter. "She's right," Romanoff interrupts. "Surrender now and assault will be your worst crime."

"And assaulting a minor, at that," I add.

"I thought you said you were eighteen," Bruce says.

Whoops. "Well, technically, my birthday is next week... I'm kind of in limbo right now." He sighs in response.

"You've got everything to lose and nothing to gain," Romanoff continues. Now I know what she's doing. She's starting her persuasion. And, luckily, he's listening. I use this time to sneak a glance at the chair I've grabbed and quickly raise it higher. The man continues to listen to her before his earpiece gives off a sudden insistent beeping. He rubs his ear and blinks a couple of times, as if coming out of a daze.

"Ah, yes. You shouldn't try that on me. I've programmed this so that if you speak to me for too long, it snaps me out of it. I know your tricks. They don't work anymore."

She looks at him coldly, but I can only imagine her surprise. As far as I know, she's never failed. It only goes to show how much he's really prepared for this. I prefer the bad guys who spontaneously wreak havoc. They're easier to win over. Villains like this, on the other hand, require as much planning to take over as he has put into this.

He rubs his eyes once more and sighs. "Look, kid, you're really killing me here." _I'd love it if I were_, I think. "I'm getting behind schedule."

Romanoff's eyes light up, like they do when she's managed to find something out. She cocks her head and gives that emotionless expression she has when she's trying to hide her real joy. "You're running out of time. That smoke bomb you detonated, it was a chemical that inhibits Banner. And it's going to wear off soon." I was looking at the man's face while she stated her revelations. It went from annoyance to shock to horror.

At first, he starts to deny it by stuttering a few words. Then, after realizing that he looks like a fool, he thinks better of it. He slowly lowers the tip so that it rests on my chest. "I should have thought of this sooner." He smiles.

There's no time left. I can already see the scepter starting to glow blue. I swing my arm and the chair comes flying towards us.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I know this is two days after Saturday and that this is late again, and I'm sorry. We've been moving house! Today, we've arrived and everyone else is busy so I have time to upload this.**

**Minimonstrosity: Thank you :) I hope you enjoy this one too! Thank you for reviewing!**

**Guest: Thank you! I'm much better now.**

**KillerCupcakes: Yes, I've noticed that my action scenes are considerably shorter, but I'm trying to make the others at least over 1000 words. I find that the ones after this chapter average to around 1200 per chapter. I hope you like this one!**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Being incapacitated in a strange, blue, alien thing was probably the least frustrating thing about this ordeal. She had been tied up, chained, and fastened on many occasions. No, the worst thing was that neither she nor anyone else could do anything to help the girl or get out of the situation in general. And so they watched helplessly as the man used his scepter on her. Well, perhaps not so helplessly, as Tony had been swearing colorfully (his idea of stalling). That was, until the chair came flying out of nowhere.<p>

For Romanoff, it was not as much of a surprise as for the others. She had noticed the chair being slowly raised – it was hard for her to miss – and had thus concluded Elizabeth's motives. She was relieved when she saw the chair come flying. It wasn't the most classy thing to do, but it did the job.

* * *

><p>Rubbing the back of my sore head, I walk towards where they are, disarming the field as I go. The look on Tony's face is priceless, and I would love to take a snapshot. But even I have common sense. "So... what now?" I ask, standing in front of the semi-circle they form.<p>

"We've got to disarm the restraints," Rogers says, trying hard to resume his position of command. He looks a bit disturbed, to say the least. I stoop down to examine the cuffs that surround his legs. An eerie blue glow emanates from two gold rings on either side, sort of looking like plasma. I extend my finger to poke it and immediately withdraw it with a yelp, having fried my finger.

"Don't you know the first rule is 'don't touch alien objects'?" Barton asks, exasperated.

"I thought it was 'don't ask questions'," I mumble, sucking my finger absentmindedly. I peer at the strange device again. The blue light looks creepy. But more importantly, it looks vaguely familiar. I rack my brains to find where I've seen it before. Sure, I've looked through all the CCTV footage of Loki's invasion, but this is more personal than that. I can't believe I can't remember it. I have perfect memory in most cases. Perhaps it's just a déjà-vu, I comfort myself.

"Communication devices aren't working, sir," Romanoff says, having already made her own plan, checked it, and reported it to us.

"We need to get communication to outside this room. Turner, go and retrieve Hill," Fury orders me.

"I would, sir, but the further the distance, the less control I have over the field. It might completely disappear in the meantime. And I wouldn't want to leave you defenseless with this madman."

"We can defend ourselves. Now, go." I highly doubt what he says. They couldn't do anything when the man was trying to brainwash Barton. I glance at the man slumped next to the wall. The chair is lying forlorn on top of him and a trickle of blood runs down his forehead. Personally, I'd like him alive - one less tally on my murder list - but I know that's selfish of me. It'd be better for everyone if he were dead. But since when has wanting someone alive been a selfish thing? I rub my temples. Now is not the time for philosophical questions. The important thing is that he's unconscious.

"Yes, sir," I finally say. He stares at me sternly. They must have interpreted my silence as a rebellion. I better get going soon. "Where should I - " I begin to say before I have the breath knocked out of me.

And then, I'm flying again in midair. I regain my senses enough to reinstate the field to protect them. A second blue light hits that wall and disperses in a dozen directions. I crash into a table, hard. Stupid S.H.I.E.L.D., with their metal furniture. Fighting my protesting nerves, I push myself up to see another ray coming towards me. I roll off the table, barely avoiding the second blast. I push the table towards him with my powers, hoping he'll be knocked out again. He easily avoids it by stepping aside. But Captain America's shield has fallen off the table. Quickly grabbing it, I swing my body and with the momentum, throw it towards him, just like I've seen Rogers do. It flies for a moment and then lands a mere couple feet away from me. My goodness. Does it have to be this heavy? He aims his scepter again and fires. I dive towards the shield and duck behind it, protecting myself from the blast. The ray reflects and hits him square in the chest.

* * *

><p>The shield's protection gives him an idea. "Turner, throw it to me!" he shouts. She looks at him once, questioning, before realizing his intent. The shield hovers for a moment before slowly dragging itself across the ground with a screech. As soon as it nears him, he grabs it and with ease lifts it to get a good grip. "Go!" he commands, having reassumed the position of leadership. She runs towards the door.<p>

The man lifts himself up and attempts to shoot at her again. Rogers winds and throws the shield, knocking him off his feet as soon as he was on them. The shield hits him and returns to Rogers's hand in a perfect arc.

* * *

><p>Even though my conscience screams at me to stay in the room, I force myself to run to the door. They'll be safer if I get help, I reason. It's not because I want to live. My life drive isn't that strong anyway. I arrive at the door and in one swift movement reach for the handle, but abruptly stop. It is covered in the same blue plasma as their restraints. "It's locked!" I shout to them to alert them of my situation. Briefly, I see how Rogers is fighting by himself, but then return to the situation at hand. Biting my lip, I plunge my hand into the light to grasp the handle. I can't move my hand within it. Gasping, I snap my hand back, clutching the burning skin.<p>

* * *

><p>The door is locked. They are trapped. He manages to stall by using a couple more throws before the man regains enough of his senses to press a button on his sleeve. Immediately, a net-like film pops out of a compartment and flies towards the shield. The shield falls midway. He's out of moves.<p>

* * *

><p>The metallic door reflects the blue light of the ray. I duck to avoid it, hoping that it'll burn a hole through the door like it did with the cabinet. It doesn't. I step backward to avoid the few remains of the blast. Suddenly, I see the man in front of me. At first, I think it's a reflection, a trick of my eyes, but then I see him trying to impale me and I know it's not. I aim to kick him low but the armor stops me. Instead, I try to punch him in the face. He grabs my wrist and fires straight into my chest.<p>

I vaguely feel myself flying again before I land with a thud on the floor. My chest hurts so much it's hard to breathe. I open my eyes to a slit to see him standing above me with a wide grin. His presses the tip of his scepter to my chest and a blue glow is emitted.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello! I'm finally posting on time :D Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**KillerCupcakes: I hope you like this one too! Thank you so much for reviewing. It really gives me motivation :)**

**Minimonstrosity: Oh yay! I'm not confident with my action sequences so this made my really happy! I'll try to write more of them better.**

* * *

><p>They are now officially doomed. With no protection and no movement, they won't be able to fight. At all. This is a new sight, seeing five superheroes completely helpless at the hands of a madman. Barton quickly takes out the one dagger he has been saving, getting ready to throw it. But it's too late. The glow has engulfed her body and he is already taking the scepter off her.<p>

"Any plans now, Captain?" Barton asks, carefully noting the man's every movement. He is insane, so it is only natural that he will be erratic and unpredictable. He might try to kill her - an illogical move, for strategically she would be a great asset - which would force him to use his dagger, to stall at the very least. He knows the man is insane, because no one in their right mind would advocate and go so far as to try to implement an alien regime. His greatest worry is about Turner. He should really tutor her himself when he has the time. Her self-defense skills are well below average. He would have done it sooner, of course, if he had known that she was here to begin with. That is, he would do it, if she makes it out alive.

"We have to get these off," Rogers replies. He stoops down and grips the metal pieces, trying to pry them apart.

"Not everything works with brute force," Tony says, annoyed. He is always easily annoyed with Rogers.

"You have a better idea?" he asks, bitten by his snark remark and the fact that his 'brute force' really didn't work.

"Don't I always?"

* * *

><p>I watch with horror as the blue light spreading through my body. I know what will happen next. I will be brainwashed, forced to listen to his every command, and then killed. This is the end of the line. I wait for my mind to be taken over. The man takes away his scepter. "Now, rise."<p>

Wait. My mind is still mine. I can still think. Will my body move of its own accord? I wait for a second, and find that I am still on the ground. No, I am not brainwashed. Nevertheless, I quickly get up to divert suspicion. My mind races as I do so. I still think that this man is a lunatic, I still believe I am on the same team as the Avengers. Perhaps it is they who have controlled my mind? But then why would the scepter be in the man's hand, and why would they be in restraints? I stop myself from pressing my temples, from doing anything he has not ordered. I don't know how this whole thing works. Maybe I am controlled. Maybe this is how it goes. The man has launched into a speech during this whole time.

"... and so I have been delayed greatly, but the repercussions shall increase more so. Now, girl, let me go near them."

For one last time, I wonder if I am on the wrong side: whether my affiliation with the Avengers is not actually real. But then I can't be bothered to think. I punch the man straight in the face.

My punch makes contact with a satisfying crunch. He shouts in surprise and clutches his nose, the exact same spot that I did earlier. I take this chance to lunge for his scepter, hoping to use it to undo their restraints. I manage to grasp it before it is yanked out of my hands. In a moment's flash, my back is pressed against the wall again with a tight grip. I sigh impatiently but also in relief, knowing now that I am not mistaken. Unless I am. This is all too confusing. "This is getting old, fast,"I growl.

He doesn't listen to me at all, mumbling something under his breath in a confused way. With a sudden enlightened light in his eyes, and a little shout of discovery, he feels the middle of my chest.

"Hey!" I exclaim indignantly. "Sexual offense against a minor is going to be added to your growing list of crimes."

He quickly takes his hand off, embarrassed by his wrong assumption. "I don't understand. She does not have the arc reactor. It should work perfectly." He shakes his scepter, as one would do to make a pen work, and tries again. Nothing happens. I roll my eyes at his endeavors.

* * *

><p>Tony whistles when he sees Elizabeth's punch. "Well, that's gotta hurt."<p>

"And your plan?" Fury asks impatiently.

"Hold on a second," he replies, fidgeting with his earpiece, which he has now taken out. He glances up from his busy fingering to look at the girl. "Although, maybe we don't have a second."

In a quick movement Romanoff throws a knife at the man's back. "Take your time," she says sarcastically to Tony as she draws another one. "I only have three more," she reports to Barton.

He nods once and also draws a dagger. "It would have been nice to do this when she was about to be brainwashed!" Tony exclaims, hurrying to complete his project.

"I was going to," he replies, not bothering to finish his sentence. In this time, the man had swiftly turned around and was blocking all the knives aimed at him. Elizabeth looks with startled eyes at the whole situation before giving him a kick in the back, sending him sprawling forwards. Romanoff is about to throw the fatal shot, when he is gone in a flash. They quickly look about them, knowing his tricks. The only benefit of him imitating Loki is that they know his abilities. Now they only need to know his flaws, like he knows theirs.

The man reappears with Elizabeth on the other side of the room. The knives disappear from their hands in a puff of smoke.

"You cannot defeat me!" he bellows.

"You're going to regret this for the rest of your short life. We will catch you, and will not give you the freedom of being killed. No, we will make you regret every footstep you took to get this far. And when you're screaming for your life, I will take the pleasure of crushing your skull myself."

"Touché," Tony replies, "although I disagree with the killing part. I'd like that for myself." The man blanches slightly, but so does Barton. He realizes that his speech is very similar to that of Loki's. It sends a shiver down his spine.

* * *

><p>He clears his throat in an attempt to resume his intimidation, after having been scared like a chicken from Barton's threat. "Well, you know what they say: 'if you can't make them come to your side, kill them'."<p>

"I've never heard of that!" I protest, but it is too late. The sharp tip lunges towards my chest.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello everyone! This is kind of double my original intention of two weeks… it's been a month. Sorry, I've been sick again :(**

**Thanks for waiting though! This chapter will be the end of the first action sequence. But there are around two more actions scenes to follow :)**

**And thank you for the reviews! Minimonstrosity: Yes, I agree with you completely. I'll try and add more names to my future chapters. Just as a rule of thumb, I usually write Elizabeth in first POV, and the rest in third. But I'll try and clarify that in the future.**

**Also, you might have noticed, but I deleted an extremely cheesy part from last chapter. I don't want anyone to think I'm writing non-cannon pairings, because I'm not.**

**Onwards!**

* * *

><p>I can't count on there being any mistakes this time. After all, how could even he mess up a simple stab? It's not exactly rocket science, and from the looks of it he's been doing a lot of science. I don't mind much, though. I'd always preferred quick stabs or gunshots to, I don't know, poison or something prolonged and painful. Being on the run for most of my life has given me plenty of time to think about death and be morbid.<p>

It's almost comical, looking at the sharp blade approach me in slow motion. I think I'm supposed to have my life pass I'm front of my eyes, but that doesn't happen, instead, there is just the man and his slow lunge. That is, before the man is swept off his feet by a flying object.

Everything speeds up after that. I find myself crouching with my back against the wall, and the man standing in the middle of the room with yet another man grasping his collar and lifting him off the floor. The newcomer is tall, muscular, and blonde, and wearing a similar outfit as the crazy man. Wait a second... I know this person. He's Thor.

He stares at the significantly smaller person now in his grasp. "You are not my brother," he says, confused. "Why are you dressed as he is?"

"That's what I want to know," Tony says, holding out a strange object that looks like it's made out of scrap metal.

* * *

><p>"Alright, it's done," Tony says triumphantly to the rest.<p>

"About time," Fury grumbles. It's tough being the head of a team and not being able to do anything. His mood is darker than usual.

"Nice to see you again, Thor," Rogers says, relaxing slightly at the fact that there is now a more realistic ally fighting this man. Elizabeth, as feisty as she may seem, is not the best match, especially without use of her full abilities.

"I shall give you my full greetings later, Captain, when I have gotten rid of this scoundrel," Thor replies angrily.

Tony presses the button on his new machine. His suit comes towards him and immediately he is fully suited. The restraints are pushed off his legs and he is now free. He looks up to see the man battling Thor and flies off to help him.

* * *

><p>When the suit was flying out of nowhere, the crazy man had used the distraction to push Thor aside and teleport to the other side of the room. I stand up and - instead of running towards Thor or the man - I run towards the team. I'm such an idiot to not have thought of this sooner: if I stay inside with them, I'll be able to stay safe while protecting them. I'm halfway there when I hear someone shout, "Get down!" I don't bother to look anymore but press myself to the floor. I see a hammer flying across the room and above my head. Observation one: blonde, muscular men like to throw heavy objects. The hammer hits the man straight in the chest. Ouch, I think, that's gotta hurt. Instead of breaking him in half, or at the very least knocking him out, however, the man's chest glows blue and the hammer bounds back. Ok, that's the end of my sympathy. The man looks at me once with great anger in his eyes. He fires once again and all I can do is cover with my head with my hands and hope for the best. Observation two: crazy men like to fire blasts whenever they're mad.<p>

I look up, apparently alive, and see Tony standing in front of me with his arm raised, palm facing towards the man. The man, on the other hand, is lying on the floor dazed. Thor uses this opportunity to yank the scepter out of his hands and with a quick flick Rogers is free. That's all he has time for, as the scepter levitates and returns back to the man, who starts firing randomly at everything and everyone. I practically have to skip to where the rest are, saving myself from the blasts, and observe the two similar heroes fighting the small man. "You join them, Barton, and it'll make three blondies," Tony says, having stopped by to see whether he can take off the rest of the restraints. He is responded with a glare.

* * *

><p>Rogers picks up his shield and uses it to fight this criminal. He quickly feels at ease, letting his body do all the work instinctively. Block a blast here by lowering the shield, kick him in the chest with the spare leg. It's all quite easy.<p>

His teamwork with Thor has improved, considering that they've only fought side by side once. They are able to keep this well-prepared man at bay using only a couple of words, but mostly just a glance and a nod. Although, they should have been able to completely overcome him by now. It's unnerving that the man is almost predicting every move that they do, employing various mechanisms to stall or stop them. He peers over the shield to look at the man, only to catch him in the act of teleporting. He quickly swivels around and barely blocks yet another stab with his shield.

This might take a while.

* * *

><p>"Alright... I've almost got it..." Tony says as he attempts to take off Romanoff's restraints. He might pretend he acts spontaneously, but I can see that he has considered this decision: Bruce is pretty useless as of now and would only be in the way, and Barton might have a panic attack or at the very least be too traumatized to use his full capacity. Romanoff would be the most useful right now.<p>

I anxiously observe the fight going on, being surprised every time he does his teleporting thing. It's pretty impressive, but also weird. As I'm watching, I see Thor throw his hammer and the man lose his grip on the scepter. It flies out of his hand and spins towards me. I dive towards it, out of the safety of my field. Grabbing it, I aim to release the rest of them. But I realize I'm just holding a stick of metal. "Where are the buttons?" I ask, panicked, to no one in particular.

"There are none," Romanoff says. I vaguely remember her using it during the Manhattan invasion. "Use your mind!"

"Use my mind? Are you insane?" I shout back. Where are all the engineered wires, the scientific buttons and notations? "Uh..." I hesitate, but just close my eyes and think of releasing them. I peek them open only to see that they're still there. "Oh, great," I grumble. I feel a hard smack on the back of my head and the world turns dark for a second. I grip the scepter tighter, determined not to release it. As I expected, the man tries to pull it from my grasp. I need to get him away from me. Suddenly, the scepter fires a blast and rebounds in my hands. Okay, I've figured out one function.

Romanoff appears next to me and takes it from my hands. "Here, like this," she says and quickly releases the rest. There is an incessant beeping from the scepter. It starts to shudder and in a second it disappears. We all look around and see that the man is gone too, along with the restraints and locks.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Argh, looks like I'm overdue again! Sorry about that… this time I just did not have time to upload. Hope you enjoy this though!**

* * *

><p>I'm sitting in the medical ward, getting attention for the various cuts and bruises that I got during the fight. They don't hurt a lot - and to be honest I've been through much, much worse - but Bruce had insisted that I get treatment. When I asked whether he was going to do it, he had refused, saying that he needed to start working as an excuse. I know that he just needs time to think. It's probably a first for him, not being able to unleash the Other Guy when he wants to. I had better go talk to him.<p>

After convincing the nurses that I'm ok, I walk to the lab. I'm very familiar with the layout now, and could probably find rooms blindfolded. It's been a couple months since I've arrived. I knock before entering the lab. Inside, Tony and Bruce are doing various complicated things on the computer. "Hi," I say, hesitantly entering. Come to think of it, I'm not sure if this is the right time. The madman is still on the loose, and is a very real threat. That should be a first priority.

But what the heck.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" I ask to Bruce.

"Secrets already? Since when have you two become that close?" Tony asks playfully. He still leaves the room for us. As he passes me, he says, "Don't take it too hard if he says no. He's still not ready for relationships." I stick my tongue out at him and push him out the door. We are on close terms now. Once, when there was a problem at S.H.I.E.L.D. (nothing big, just the risk of some leaked identities), and I had had to crash at his house for a couple weeks. Apparently, it had the best security and his identity had no danger of being revealed. We became close then, much of it thanks to Pepper's insisting. I owe her one for that. What with the weekly outing – dinner (disguised, of course, for fear of gossip) or the occasional movie – it was hard not to become friendly. And living together always lets you know the deeper side of a person.

"Hi," I repeat to Bruce. It's a bit of a hard topic to broach. I decide to skip words and instead give him the container I've been keeping in my pocket. He fingers it curiously.

"What's this?" he finally asks.

"It's a bit of the chemical left from the smoke. I took it before those _ cleared the area. I thought... um... I thought..." I fumble for words. What exactly did I think? That this would make him feel better? Having the cause of his helplessness right in his hands? I scratch the back of my head, embarrassed. "Actually, I'll just, uh, take it back," I say, moving to retrieve it from his hands.

He pulls it a little closer to himself. "No, it's good. I appreciate it." He stares at it for a little while longer, turning it in his hands. "Thanks," he finally says, showing me a fake smile. To the untrained eye it might look genuine, but I know it's strained.

Tony comes back in. "So, what was the answer?"

I pout. "It was a no." He, in mocking comfort, puts his arm around me, which I easily duck.

Bruce laughs. "You're a bad influence, Tony, you know that?"

"If by 'bad', you mean 'good', then yes, I do." I roll my eyes at his lame comeback. "And no, Liz, I'm not losing my touch. It's called being classic."

Just then, the communicators turn on, interrupting our banter. "Fury would like to see you in the meeting room." We walk together till we reach the room, and enter one by one. The room fills slowly with only the important people.

"How's the tracking going, Banner?" Hill asks.

"Reasonably well. We'll probably get the coordinates quicker than last time."

Fury nods approvingly. "That brings me to my next point. This man has planned his course of action based on the precious attack. Our best plan of action is acting quicker and more efficiently than before. Which means no fights," he says, looking pointedly at Rogers and Tony. Rogers looks down at the table, but Tony just brushes it off and fidgets with the screen in front of him.

"Secondly," he continues, "he has possession of Loki's scepter, which means there is a high probability that he will have possession of the Tesseract as well. His potential use of it could cause massive destruction. We need to stop him before he does. Unlike last time."

"Well, it worked before too, didn't it?" Tony says.

"Only after you destroyed half of Manhattan," he retorts. With an almost imperceptible nod, he signs to Hill to take over. She does so with a pointed stare at me.

"Turner, have you ever had contact with the Tesseract?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised, almost falling off my chair. The conversation has taken a sharp turn, making me its subject. I pause for a long moment - not out of hesitation, but out of confusion. "Uh, no?" I say, drawing out the last word as an indication of my bewilderment. And, besides, the answer was pretty obvious anyways.

"The scientists have reason to believe that previous contact may have left you immune to its mind controlling effects, thus preventing you from going under its control. They believe it was the power source of your experiment."

There's a brief silence to that long explanation.

"I can easily refute that with two facts," I say. "One, the Tesseract was buried in the sea decades before I was born, and was only rediscovered way after I became like this. There was no way I could've been exposed. Two, if previous contact does make you immune, why would he have even tried it on Barton? He would've known it wouldn't work anyway."

The rest of the team nod slightly, with only Barton tensing slightly. I feel sorry whenever the 'incident', which it is so called, is mentioned. He must be reliving his nightmare right now. "There were smaller fragments of the Tesseract even when it had gone missing," Hill says. "And for your second point, he might just not have known."

"Not have known?" Bruce asks, incredulous. "Didn't you see how much he prepared?" Of course he's prepared a lot. It's not easy to get that inhibitor, whatever it is, that he used, and he seemed to be able to predict every move. But then I remember how he shook the scepter like a pen when it didn't work. Maybe he's not so knowledgeable about it after all. But I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"So you are denying the fact that you have been exposed?"

I nod my head. With that, it seems, the meeting is over, after just a few more discussions on future plans. Outside the room, I hesitate for just a moment, wondering whether to go with Rogers or back to the lab with Bruce and Tony. I really want to catch up with Rogers, but on the other hand, Romanoff and Barton seem to be going with him, and I think they are mad that I hadn't revealed my presence at S.H.I.E.L.D. earlier. They might start interrogating me. The very thought gives me chills. I decide to go to the lab and help out with what I can. Idle chitchat can follow after this has all settled down.

As soon as we enter the room, I practically collapse onto the chair. Each step I take actually makes all the bruises and sores hurt even more. Maybe, when they finally capture the man, I'll be able to punch him in the face or something for all that he's done. I smile happily at that thought and start humming. "Liz has gone crazy," Tony says. He is typing crazily onto all the computers. I skip retorting - it gets tiring after a while, no matter how fun it is - and instead peer at what he is doing. It has nothing to do with the scepter, nor the Tesseract. He's hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.

"I don't think you should be doing that," I say. He briefly looks up at me, although he continues typing. He shrugs and continues with his work.

"I do it all the time," he replies. It looks like he does, because he easily bypasses all the various firewalls and blocks that have been places. I remember that he was the one who actually invented these for them. Cheater.

The rest of the team enter the room. "How are you feeling?" Rogers asks as soon as he comes in.

"Good, good," I say dismissively, sliding myself onto a table to make more room. Romanoff takes a glance at Tony's monitor and promptly shuts down the whole computer by pulling the plug. He immediately begins protesting.

"That's the whole data you've just erased!" he exclaims.

"No, the data is over there, with Bruce. I'm not an idiot, Tony."

He takes on a more aggressive tone. "How long are you going to blindly believe S.H.I.E.L.D.? Remember the last time they hid stuff from you?"

Rogers steps in. "Alright, break it up. We've got to work together..."

"You stay out of this," Tony says. "I'm talking to spider-lady over here."

The conversation has suddenly become quite aggressive. Their voices rise higher and higher until they start shouting at each other. I sit, bewildered, in the corner. Thor sneaks over and stands next to me. He doesn't seem very involved in this situation, which is strange, because he looks more brawn than brains, the kind to go for emotions rather than keep his calm.

"Everyone is very passionate," he says.

"Uh, I wouldn't exactly call it 'passionate'..." I say. "Looks pretty uncalled for to me." Suddenly, everything clicks. Slowly, my eyes are drawn towards the floor.

"Get out of the room!" I shout.

The floor crumples beneath us.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I realize that it's been roughly two months since I last posted, and I'm extremely sorry. You must have all thought I'd abandoned this story, and that's an awful feeling :(**

**Actually, I was just taking a break for Lent and realized only just now that my message about my hiatus hadn't posted. I'm extremely sorry for that, especially since the last chapter ended in a cliffhanger!**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Read and review please :)**

* * *

><p>I wipe the tears forming from the smoke to see a massive hole in the floor. That is definitely not good. My body is paralyzed - from shock, I think. Come on, I tell my body, I've got to get out before there's another explosion. Move. I remain seated on the floor as a cough racks my body. Someone hauls me up and drags me out of the room, making me stumble. Outside, I see Rogers, Tony, and Barton standing together, Roger's hand still on my wrist. "Where are the others?" I ask, finally regaining my senses.<p>

"I think they fell down the hole," Rogers replies.

"And we just left them there?" I ask, my voice coming out louder than I expected.

I don't get an answer. Barton opens the door across the corridor and we enter the main room.

It is chaos inside.

People are running around, getting to various different computers at once and getting to different rooms through the walls aligned with doors leading to many different corridors. Several people bump into me before I press myself against the wall. We try to get the attention of a few people, but they either don't acknowledge our presence or just shake their heads and move on. I can see the head of Fury in the centre of the room, shouting orders, but it's impossible to get to him with this crowd in the way. The whole floor suddenly tilts to one side, almost making me lose my balance. Rogers grabs one agents. "What's going on?" he asks.

"Our engines have been hit by a projectile," he replies, trying to wriggle his way out of Roger's grasp.

"How do you not know that a projectile is coming towards you?" Tony asks.

"It was invisible to the radars," he says, finally freeing himself and running off in a direction.

"You could have looked out the window!" Rogers shouts.

As if someone has heard him, someone cries, "There's another one coming!"

Everyone ducks and flees from the giant glass window covering the entire wall, some of them under tables. With everyone out of the way, I can see a massive dark shadow approaching, fast. I don't crouch. I extend my hand and brace myself for the blow. The missile hits my force field, its shrapnel some glass panes, creating an almost beautiful sea of broken fragments on the floor. The massive force of the missile rocks me a little, but otherwise I'm ok. My eyes meet with Fury's. He pushes everyone out of the way and comes to us. "What do you need?" he asks me directly.

It takes me a while to comprehend his question. The energy of the several force fields I've made today is draining me. "I need a clear view, preferably outside," I finally answer.

"Barton, take her to the roof. Rogers and Tony, go take care of the engines."

"You better go get your suit," Rogers says to Tony. My mind suddenly rings, as though it has thought of something, but before I can arrange my thoughts, I'm pulled along by Barton.

We race through the corridors, squeezing through the rabble of people or Barton pushing them away altogether. The floor tilts occasionally, making us lose our balances and occasionally fall. "If the engines aren't working, shouldn't we be in free fall right now?" I ask.

He asks this question through his communicator. I realize that mine is letting all the lines through and that I can't communicate with anyone directly. This always happens at the worst times.

"The engines are seeming to take turns working," he replies.

"Is that normal?" I ask. I am promptly ignored.

It is only after the umpteenth turn that I think to ask, "What about the others? Agent Romanoff?" I say specifically, to get his attention.

He presses his communicator closer. "Romanoff, do you copy?" he asks. There is no reply.

"Even I can't hear you," I say. It's true. I can hear everything but him. It seems that his communicator is broken on his side.

He takes out the earpiece from his ear. "Must be broken," he says. He ponders for a while, slowing his gait. Then he picks it up again. "They'll be fine by themselves," he replies, looking slightly unconvinced.

* * *

><p>As she falls, she twists her body, making a perfect tumble as she hits the ground. Debris falls on top of her. She immediately tries to get on her feet, when she suddenly realizes she is trapped under a fallen beam. She tries to push herself out, but can't. In the middle of her struggle, she hears ragged breathing. "Banner?" she asks, looking up.<p>

In the middle of the room, Bruce is on the floor on all fours. He has a grimace of pain on his face and is breathing heavily. His veins stand out and his forehead shimmers with sweat. "Banner," she repeats, realizing with horror what he is going through. He groans with the effort of containing himself. "You're going to be ok. I swear you're going to be ok. On my life."

With these words, he is the first one to realize what is going on. He needs to tell this to her. "It's happening... again..." he manages to get out, before he feels himself let go and be taken over. But the chemical must still be left in his body, because the transformation is slower. He can actually feel his muscles grow bigger and his mind slip quickly from his control. Not again, he thinks. He slips his clumsily large hand into his pocket and quickly takes out the container that Elizabeth had given him. Without a second thought, he inhales it.

Flash.

He thought he had just blinked. But now, after the darkness, he sees himself chasing Romanoff with great agility and strength. He stops himself and grabs onto a metal beam to slow himself down. So the transformation is partial. He still can't completely control himself. But he sees with satisfaction Romanoff run out of sight, into safety.

Flash.

He is standing in the middle of an empty space. Water pipes and wires surround him. He is still underground. He looks up briefly to see a hammer flying towards him, hitting him straight in the chest. Normally, it would have broken him in two. But his partial transformation allows him to merely stumble back a couple of steps. The hammer returns to Thor's hand who gets ready to throw it again. Bruce tries to say something, to show Thor that he is still himself. But then it turns dark again.

* * *

><p>She is sitting against the wall, her chest heaving from the effort of running for her life. She takes a few deep breaths to calm herself. It's worse the second time round. The second time... her mind catches on to something, almost closing its fingers around the idea. But she is interrupted by static on her communicator. "There is an intruder on the fourth floor. He's approaching the main system. Does anyone copy?"<p>

She waits for a second for someone to respond. Anyone can take on an intruder. From the looks of it, the tilting floor is proving to be more of a problem. The only sound on the other line is static. No one is answering. She takes another deep breath to calm herself. "This is Agent Romanoff. I copy."

* * *

><p>He stops straight in his tracks. I do too, having heard those particular words with perfect clarity. We both look at each other and I know that he's watched every single video recording of this too. I know that he's memorized every detail of what happened on that night.<p>

I know that he's realized that what is happening now is an exact replica of when Loki invaded the helicarrier.

Simultaneously, we run back the way we've come. "We're the only ones not affected by the previous event. We've got to disrupt anything that's going on," he says.

"I don't get it," I say, panting from the effort of running. "If everything's going on like before, it's going to turn out fine, like last time, right?"

"Everything is a trap," he says.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello everyone! Hope this chapter isn't too late. And I truly hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

><p>"I'll go stop Romanoff. You take care of the rest," he says.<p>

"Wouldn't it be better the other way around?" I ask. But he is already gone around the corner. I grumble all the way as I go in the opposite direction, which I hope is a fairly accurate choice of where the rest are.

While jogging aimlessly, I press the communicator against my ear. All the lines are coming through, so I need to concentrate hard to find the right information. It's sort of like listening through white noise, only worse. Finally, I hear a faint echo saying, "I'm at the rear engines, Capsicle. Tell me when you make it to the control pad outside." I immediately take a turn that will lead me to their side of the helicarrier. When the corridor diverges into two, I stop for a second. The one on the left leads to the engines, and the one on the rights leads to the control panels. I bite my lip, going a couple of steps to the right before going to the left, and then stopping altogether in the middle. Closing my eyes, I try to think of the most strategic action. If this is a trap - and it's looking more like one by the second - who would need more help? The answer now is obvious. I go down the corridor on the left.

I make a final sprint towards where Tony is. There are significantly less people here, so it's easier to make it through. I reach the door to the outside engines just as Tony is about to go through it. "Stop!" I shout. He turns around, surprised. I must look like a mess, with my hair disheveled and smoke remnants probably on my face. But my appearance is the last thing on my mind right now.

"Trap... repeat... don't go," I say, not sure if I'm making sense. I pant, trying to organize my thoughts. He just looks at me in that same strange way with his mask up.

"Ok, kid, let's try that again. But make it quick," he says.

I take a deep breath and let it all out in one go. "The crazy guy is repeating everything that Loki did in the same way, so if you do what you're doing, he'll predict your actions and you'll be falling into a trap."

He stays silent and processes that information for a while. He's quite slow today. After a moment, he winces, as if he has a sudden headache. His eyes dilate very subtly, but it's enough for me to notice now that I know what to look for. Just at that moment, I hear Rogers saying that he's ready. "You're not making any sense," Tony says, making for the door. I slip in between him and enter the outside, slamming the door behind me and locking it from this side. He immediately bangs on the door. "What do you think you're doing?" he asks, the sound muffled by the heavy metal.

I wish I knew the answer. The wind blows strongly around me, tossing my loosened hair in uncontrollable waves. I take the leisurely time of putting it back in a ponytail. I pull the gun out of my holder and carefully sneak around the area. Although I don't really know how this trap thing works, I assume that there will be at least some people around to operate it. The corner made by the round engine looks suspicious. I'm only a couple steps around it when a metal ball rolls towards me.

Instinctively, I kick it as far away from me as I can, but its heavy weight doesn't allow it to roll off the edge. I duck, expecting a bomb explosion. But the only thing I hear is a high-pitched screech.

Opening my eyes in slits, I realize that nothing has happened. I cautiously walk over to the ball to examine it. It has now opened, sort of like a clamshell, and is gently rocking. I crouch down and examine it more closely, taking care not to touch it directly. Touching strange objects burnt me once today already, which is enough. The center of the ball is filled with colorful wires and what looks like plasma. It's a pity that engineering is not my strong subject, or I would be able to know what it is. And, more importantly, whether it is a threat to me or not. I try to make an educated guess by looking at it from many angles, as if that will help. I'm examining it closely when the shiny surface reflects a figure behind me.

I swivel around and dive to my right, hearing the bang of a gun and the swish of a bullet a couple inches from my ear. My head rings from the sound. I loosen the weak force field I've been putting around the helicarrier and use it to protect myself. Several bullets ping off the wall. Before I even get the chance to focus my eyes, I fire a couple shots towards the shadows that surround me. When my vision clears, I see a few bodies lying on the ground and more people surrounding me, still trying to shoot me. It's easy to pick the rest off. With a couple of shots, all is quiet and still.

I stand up and survey the area. The bodies lie around me, almost enclosing me in. A shiver runs down my back, even though I try to remain stoic. I stay for a while, just looking at each of them in turn, but not really seeing. The wind tosses my hair and creates waves through my loose shirt. I try to keep my mind clear and empty, which works for a while, but I can feel some thoughts creeping in. Just when I can feel myself start to think, the floor lurches to one side as the engine next to me makes a spluttering sound. That pushes my thoughts to the side, making me focus on the obviously more immediate matters. I open the door, expecting Tony to come barging in, but find that there is no one on the other side. Confused, I look both ways, and find him leaning on a wall. His head is bent downwards and he looks as though he will soon slump down. I quickly rush up to him.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

His answer is muffled through his mask. In an irritated manner, he forces it up with his hand. "Something interfered with my systems. Almost everything shut down. I still need to get them back up again."

I think hard about that for a moment. I go and retrieve the metal ball, taking care to step over the bodies without actually looking at them. I bring it to him, snapping my fingers to get his attention. He looks up.

"Get that thing away from me," he says, slapping it from my hand. It rolls, making a clinking sound until it stops by a wall. So it is what I thought it was. A pinch: a device that shuts down all other electric devices.

This just confirms the whole trap conspiracy.

"It already activated. When I went to the engines, it rolled towards me. Which would have been you, had I let you go in."

I can see him think about that, narrowing his eyes. In the meantime, his systems reboot, lighting up his suit. "Are my eyes blue?" he finally asks.

I actually take it seriously and peer into them. "Not really," I say. "I think that, for whatever reason, you just have a predisposition to do exactly what you did last time."

He nods slowly. He starts suddenly, as if from a realization. "We need to go stop the others."

I almost jump. Barton was only going to stop Romanoff, and the rest were my job. I check my watch and find that I've already spent five minutes dealing with this. That's plenty of time for... the worst to happen.

He makes a gesture for us to go, when the floor lurches to one side again. "I think you should fix the engines," I say.

He looks hesitant. "You sure you can do it by yourself?"

I bite my lip but nod in what I hope looks like a confident manner. "Sure. How hard could it be?"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hi, everyone! So, I realize that it's been three months since I've last posted a new chapter. Yikes! Sorry, time does fly... I'll try to post more regularly now because exam periods are finally over.**

**More importantly, at the beginning of this month, you must have noticed that Avengers 2 has finally come out! How was it? I haven't been able to watch it yet, but I do know the plot.**

**Of course, this is wonderful, but it does mean that my story is now outdated. I suppose it can now (gasp!) be called AU, because this is all before the events of Avengers 2. So, just to clarify, this story takes place ****_before_**** Avengers 2.**

**Because I had originally planned this story to be part of a trilogy (and this was way before the movie came out) I'm thinking of just continuing my plan, and not adjusting it to fit Avengers 2.**

**What do you think?**

**Anyway, onwards!**

* * *

><p>He's not sure where exactly everything went wrong. Nor how he came to be in this predicament, with men surrounding him fully with guns pointed at various vital organs, and him right on the edge of the helicarrier.<p>

Maybe it was when a large magnet had appeared suddenly next to the helicarrier, flying smoothly alongside it, a couple meters away. Once positioned, it had pulled the shield with surprising force. Rogers kept a strong grip on it but was forced to let it go when he was tottering on the edge and about to fall off. The shield flew gracefully until it stuck onto the magnet with a large bang. He reached for his gun, only to find that it was stuck right next to the shield. That had left him completely unarmed and dumbfounded, the latter of which wasted a few precious moments, allowing him to be surrounded.

Or maybe the plan had gone wrong earlier, when his communicator had suddenly gone haywire as soon as he entered outside and closed the door behind him. He should have known that something was wrong. Stark's devices didn't break that easily and for no reason, he had to admit.

Either way, there's not much he can do now. He contemplates falling off the edge. That would prevent him being shot, but what else would that achieve? He'd free fall for a while and have to rely on someone saving him, or else. And everyone sounded preoccupied at best before he lost communication. And if no one came to the rescue... No, that wouldn't help at all.

The men don't look like they'll take him hostage. One of them - the leader of this small group, he assumes - is talking on his radio to his superior. Although the strong wind prevents much sound from being heard, he can still make out enough to determine that they're preparing to kill him. It just seems that there's a miscommunication as to when and where.

The falling plan is looking better by the second.

The leader hangs up his communicator and makes a gesture that the men seem to understand. They raise their guns, although still obviously nervous at the thought of killing a super soldier. He makes a small but sure move towards the edge, forcing himself not to look at the endless expanse of sky below him. He stares coldly at each of them in turn, hoping to buy a few more moments with which to think of a plan. His mind feels slower today, as if it is running complacently through lukewarm water.

At that moment, some of the men fall to the ground with a cry of pain. This is the distraction he was looking for.

He can fall, or he can fight.

He lunges for the nearest man and grabs his rifle, kneeing him in the gut to make him lose his grip. It works, and the man crumples to the ground, leaving Rogers armed once again. He hears the whizz of bullets flying towards him. He crouches, hoping to avoid them. Instead of reaching him, however, they stop midway, dropping as if they have reached a wall. He shoots at the rest of the men, seeing them all crumple to the ground. This all feels vaguely familiar.

The déjà vu is interrupted by a high-pitched shout. He looks up to see one of the men wrestling with another person, trying to push that person off the edge. It must be the person who fired the initial shots, killing and distracting the men enough for him to take action. It's only after this long thought process that he realizes that the person is Elizabeth.

She totters on the edge, wide eyed, gripping the man's arms with the force of desperation. He could shoot at the man, but he isn't confident in his shooting skills and may hit Elizabeth instead. And even if he did hit the man, that would make the man collapse, leaving her without anything to hold on to. Instead, Rogers runs towards them. The man looks back and locks eyes with Rogers. He frantically pushes Elizabeth off the edge and runs.

Her balance is broken as she leans back. She slips off the edge.

In one swift motion, Rogers grabs her arm and pulls her towards him to safety. He turns and fires one clean shot into the head of the retreating man.

* * *

><p>My heart beats uncontrollably - and what I find unprofessionally - in my chest, and my breathing comes in shallow breaths. While having that push fight with the man, I had made the mistake of looking down at the endless nothingness. My stomach churns and I take a few deep breaths to calm it. It's only after a while that I hear Rogers speaking to me insistently. Not speaking, I realize. Asking.<p>

Question one: "Are you ok?" he asks. I nod while trying to regain my calm. He looks unconvinced at the answer but lets it pass.

Question two: "Were you the one who fired the first shots and distracted them?" I show my affirmative again.

Question three: "What are you doing here?" Now this requires a longer answer. I take a deep breath and tell him the whole story, from Barton and I realizing that this is a repeat to me stopping Tony, and finally coming here to help him.

He ponders that for a long time while I study his eyes. They remain the natural blue they were, but look a bit cloudy, with flecks dotting the pupils. Perhaps they're similar symptoms. Either way, the fact that he was drawn to this place and that people were waiting for him is a clear sign someone's been tampering with his mind.

"Alright, let's go get the others," he says. He pauses though, for a moment, and looks to his side. I follow his gaze to see his shield stuck to the side of a large metallic aircraft. No wonder he couldn't fight for himself. "Hold on a second," he says. He pushes me gently to one side, close to the wall. I stay, slightly confused as to what he is going to do.

He surveys the edge, looking from the aircraft to the floor that he is standing on. He seems to be measuring the distance. Oh no. It can't be what I'm thinking...

He takes a couple step backwards and leaps to the other side. I almost faint. With ease, he lands on the rim and holds on to his gun, using it as his handle and plucking his gun off. He tries to take his shield too, but it is stuck too hard for him. He sidesteps until he reaches the door and enters it. Even from this distance and with my heart pounding in my chest, I can hear the sounds of fighting. A little while later, the aircraft flies nearer. He comes out, picks his shield off, and jumps back.

It's only at this point that I wonder how Barton is doing. I haven't heard anything from his side.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please comment below about how you would like me to continue this story: should I adjust it to fit Avengers 2, or just do what I have written and planned? Thank you.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, everyone! Again, I'm sorry for not posting for so long. I don't even have an excuse anymore - I just think I've lost interest in the story. But I will finish it, don't worry. Please give me some encouragement to help me finish :)**

* * *

><p>He arrives on the fourth floor at the walkway with short breaths, not out of lack of fitness but out of something he has heard other people call fear. He heard everything from Elizabeth filtered through his earpiece and was more convinced by each passing second that this is all a trap.<p>

Coming here, to this exact place, reminds him of that day. He doesn't remember what his aim was and why he came here that time. Of course, he doesn't try to remember, but everything is hazy from that day.

Apart from the unforgettable sensation of the actual killings and the sight of the dead bodies that he created.

A shadow moves across the other end. He instinctively grabs his bow and fires his arrow. It is only at the last moment, before he releases it completely, that he realizes that it might be Romanoff. The last hesitation causes the arrow to veer slightly off target, embedding itself in the wall, but allowing the shadow to quickly scamper off to somewhere. He realizes that he fired an explosive one, and takes care not to detonate it. He cautiously replaces his bow and instead takes out his gun. Some people might think that guns are more lethal in his hands. Those people don't know him.

He senses something behind him and places himself in a defensive position, simultaneously aiming his gun to threaten the person if it's the enemy. He turns around and comes face to face with Natasha.

"Natasha," he says, relieved to see her in one piece. He replaces the gun in its holder. "Are you ok?" he asks, venturing to ask the question even though he knows she hates being asked.

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?" she asks. He wonders how to begin answering that question, when he stops.

Her eyes are blue.

At the same time, she sees him notice. She draws her gun and points it at his head, firing immediately. Instinctively, he grabs her wrist and twists it, making her fire into the ceiling. This would be the perfect time to shoot her, but that's not an option. Instead, he kicks her shin and when her balance is off, pushes her back to the ground. She might be the Black Widow, but he can easily overpower her with his strength. In mid fall, he yanks the gun out of her hands and throws it away. As soon as she's on the floor, she takes out a hidden knife and moves to plunge it into his stomach, forcing him to roll off her.

Perhaps it won't be so easy after all.

She stands, taking the advantageous position with him on the floor and vulnerable. She lunges again. He takes his bow and uses it to block the knife, once, twice. He pushes himself upward and the sparring continues. He wonders how she managed to knock him out so easily last time. He is pushed back, nearing the other side of the long walkway. She lethally lunges again, and this time he steps back and closes the bow on the knife, trapping it in between. He twists it out of her hand, making her turn, and leaving her defenseless. She now has her back to the end of the walkway and he has plenty of space behind him, leaving him in a better situation. He pulls out his gun and aims it to her head.

"Hands up," he says. She remains standing, with that cold smirk on her face. "I said hands up," he repeats, with a slowly sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Barton, we both know you can't kill me," she says. He knows that she's right, and know that it's in vain to act otherwise. When under control, the person retains all knowledge, skills, and even memories. She'll still have her perfect knowledge of the human mind, and how to manipulate it.

In his brief moment of distraction, she grabs another knife and throws it, hitting the gun out of his hand. She smiles once again, and brings out another gun. She has endless supplies of hidden weapons. She aims it towards him. "Hands up," she says, repeating his exact words to make it smart even more.

He pretends to do so, but at the last moment reaches towards his back and takes out his bow and arrow, aiming it towards her before she can act. He takes a deep breath. "I might not be able to kill you, but you can't kill me for lack of skill." Her eyes narrow at the sudden turn of events. "And don't think that I wouldn't do what I have to do to protect everyone here. You know better than that." He might not be in an advantageous position, but at least they're even.

She contemplates this for a second, before taking on her relaxed composure again. "You were always the hero, Barton," she says. She then deliberately turns her gun and points it to her own head. He freezes, he knows visibly. "Remember the last time this happened, Barton?"

He does remember. And the sleepless nights that followed it.

He knows that she is capable of pulling that trigger, if it means fulfilling her goal. When under control, the actions are only possible with the person's initial capability. And she is beyond capable of sacrificing herself for her cause, be it good or bad. She's done it before.

They've been playing a chess game and she's finally played checkmate. He's cornered and they both know it. "Weapon down," she says. He studies her carefully and lets his eyes drift behind her. He sees the arrow he had fired earlier, still embedded in the wall. Its explosive device blinks red. He stares at it for a bit too long, enough to arouse her suspicion. He carefully fingers the trigger on his bow that will detonate the explosion.

His muscles tense under his tight suit and he considers his next move, although not too carefully, because he knows he doesn't have the time. He pulls the trigger.

The wall behind her explodes. Simultaneously, he dives towards her, grabbing her as she falls unconscious and away from the falling debris. The dust from the concrete wall makes the area clouded. He checks her pulse, trying to remain calm. He finds a steady one at her neck. With ease, he lifts her up and carries her away.

* * *

><p>We arrive at the underground floor, surely much too late. We picked up Tony on the way - who had fortunately fixed all the engines, eliminating that problem - and are ready to do, well, what needs doing. I'm not really excited for that. If this is an exact repeat (in favor of the madman, of course) this should mean that Thor is fighting the transformed Bruce Banner...<p>

A large green fist punches the wall a couple feet in front of my head. I can't help but scream, knowing that I'm being extremely unprofessional and childish. Rogers pushes me behind him and Tony similarly comes in front, ready to fight their own ally.

I believe I've just lost all their trust in my abilities.

The fist withdraws, but afterwards the entire body comes out. I'm prepared to do something, anything, that can help. Thor appears on the other side, swinging his hammer and gaining momentum. It is only then that I realize that Bruce isn't complete. He's somewhere between his normal self and the Other Guy. Rogers is ready to throw his shield with great force, which I don't think half-Bruce will be able to handle. "Wait!" I say, but he has already thrown it. I extend my hand, trying to stop it midway. The extra force makes me wince a bit, and the shield doesn't stop, but it does slow down. It stops in front of the Hulk. He turns and looks at us.

That can't be good.

He lets out a large roar and prepares to charge. Out of nowhere, an arrow flies and embeds itself in his arm. The Hulk looks at it contemptuously, before pulling it out with ease. He sneers at us again. He takes a step, but totters suddenly. He looks confused. After taking another step, he falls completely to the ground.

Barton comes up from the shadows, picking up the arrow with the remnants of the smoke in it, now condensed. I look at Bruce, and see with surprise that he is now back to normal. Without a word, they pick him up and we go back upstairs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I guess I wrote this months ago (I have some chapter buffers) and I now cringe to see my writing... eek...**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello, everyone! So, ten days left of summer, and I haven't written this story at all. Very sorry about that... but to be honest, I've sort of lost interest in this, especially because it doesn't fit at all with Avengers 2 anymore.**

**Can anyone give me encouragement? Please? Pretty please?**

* * *

><p>I trudge wearily to the room, where we will apparently be getting a debriefing (and hopefully an explanation for their lax security). I am curious, but I feel the urgent need to go to my nice, comfortable bed and pass out in the form of sleeping. Nevertheless, I arrive with the rest and we are seated.<p>

The meeting begins with the bureaucratic list of the damage done, which inventory includes humans, primarily on the enemy's side, just like any other noun in the dictionary. I shouldn't be surprised. I'm not, I tell myself. I contributed to that list, after all.

"So enough with this crap. Tell me how you allowed S.H.I.E.L.D. to be infiltrated so easily." Tony interrupts. "I'll have to give it to you, you have done an impossible achievement by being hacked with _my _equipment." That wakes me up quite thoroughly. Fury glares back.

"In fact, they found it quite easy. Perhaps you should consider updating your technology," Fury replies in an extremely sarcastic tone.

"Stop scapegoating me. It's your fault and you know it."

The discussion is escalating and I don't like it. This is exactly the same as the last meeting they had, and that ended in near catastrophe. And I'm tired of waiting in the sidelines, assuming that they'll take care of everything. Because evidently, they won't. And besides, who knows how else that chemical has affected their brains. It's probably still in their bodies. I glance at Barton, to see what he thinks of this situation, but he's looking elsewhere and seems lost in his thoughts. Looks like it's up to me.

"So, I'm sorry to interrupt, but could someone please explain to me one major discrepancy with this whole thing?" The spotlight is on me now, and they look at me with questioning looks. "If this guy's plan was to brainwash everyone the first time he infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., why would he make customized traps like this for the second time round?"

There's a brief pause, with no one willing to respond with the obvious answer: "We don't know". It's not easy to admit lack of knowledge, but I expected better from one of the world's most important organizations. Regardless, I've fulfilled my duty, as the discussion takes a rather abrupt turn to the chronological order of events after the first explosion.

I'm glad that Barton talks for the debriefing, allowing me to space out. His summary is soon followed by the rest's, and the only words that I hear are the repetition of dead, dead, dead. The rhythmic intoning makes the world fade. Perhaps I'll just close my eyes for a second, to rest. They won't notice.

X

Rogers stops speaking because of the small thud. With one accord, they look at Elizabeth, her head resting on her folded arms and her deep breathing treading the line of light snoring. Fury looks with unconcealed annoyance at this interruption. "She must be tired," Rogers says as way of a partial apology.

The agent next to her, nervously watching the others' reactions, tries to wake her up by nudging her knee, but is unsuccessful. "We'll continue this later. Dismissed," Fury says, finally giving up.

The agents scuttle out of the room, ready to tidy up the mess made by the attack. Rogers ponders on Elizabeth's last question. The man should have assumed that his first attack would work, since he didn't know of Elizabeth's existence. The fact that he planned a second, perhaps even more elaborate, plan as a back-up does more than just concern him. And looking back on both attacks, they were customized to the last detail. In order to have planned this, the man must have had information. But information from where? He knows he has struck an important point, but his thoughts are broken when he looks at Elizabeth's slumped posture.

He sighs at her slight figure, her jet black hair that starkly contrasts with her pale complexion, and her thin face that shows all signs of youth. She shouldn't be involved in this, he thinks. But then again, in an ideal world, none of them would have to deal with a problem like this. This is far from a utopia. Unfortunate, because that was what he had been fighting for all those years ago: a brighter future. To think of all that for nothing.

Tony comes up behind her and shakes her shoulder, harder and harder as she refuses to stir. In a brief moment of worry, he checks to see if she's breathing, and when he confirms that she's alive, let's her go in exasperation. He strides towards the table holding all the international publications and picks the top one up. He rolls it absentmindedly and with a large swing whacks it on her head. Elizabeth makes an unintelligible sound and turns her head, only to fall back asleep.

"Be gentle," Thor says, reprimanding Tom's gruff movements.

"She's not waking up," Tony says as an excuse, shrugging it off.

"Might as well let her rest then. She deserves it," Rogers says. "We should get her to her room." He looks at Barton questioningly, who has been starting unfocused towards the distance. Barton senses the stare and brings himself back to reality.

"I just met her today, too," Barton says as an answer to the unsaid question. He doesn't want to explicitly state the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't always tell him everything, unlike what they think. That would be exposing himself too much. He feels a slight distance between the rest of the team, probably because the first time they met, he was the one behind the attack. This whole repeat isn't good for his nerves, to say the least. He knows the others are remembering his role in the last attack too. He just knows it.

"Her room is right around the corner," Tony says, having looked into the more (confidential) files and having found what he was looking for. He heaves her onto her feet and, supporting her by the arms, half carries, half drags her outside. Rogers and Barton look silently on, considering helping but too absorbed in their thoughts. By the time they decide to act, they are the only ones left in the room. They glance at each other, seeing the other wanting to be undisturbed. Rogers is the first to break the silence.

"Good work today," he says, somewhat awkwardly, but this is hidden by his confident tone of voice. He walks outside the door, deciding to take a walk to clear his head. Barton immediately gets up and goes to the infirmary.

He opens the door to Romanoff's room. She's still unconscious and, to his slight disappointment, tied up. Not that it surprises him, of course, but nevertheless... He takes a seat next to her and fiddles with his bow, repairing its slight damages. He checks his watch every couple of minutes. If he didn't knock her out too hard, she should regain consciousness soon. He's right, because it's not long before she wakes up.

She opens her eyes and allows herself a moment of daze before bolting upright. She must be tougher than he is, he thinks, because he remembers feeling nausea and dizziness the minute he regained consciousness. After double-checking her eyes, he begins to untie her hands, but she stops him. "You're luckier than I am," he says, avoiding looking at her. "You didn't kill anyone."

She relaxes ever so slightly after that, and he undoes her bounds. "Fair enough," she says. "I have more red in my ledger." She stares unfocused at the wall and rubs her temples ever so slightly. "You'd think it would be easier the second time round," she mutters. He leaves her to mull over a bit, because he remembers all those talks and consolations just driving the point home that he did do something wrong.

"He got me as soon as I got to the fourth floor," she says, breaking the silence. "He was waiting for me. I didn't have time to do anything before..." she trails off, knowing that he knows what she's going to say anyway. "I should have known it was a trap. It was too obvious."

"I figured it out. Guess that means I'm sharper than you," he says, trying to lighten the mood.

She grants him one of her friendlier expressions - the ones she does without really smiling - and leaves the room, saying she needs to report to Fen. He lets her, because he wants to be alone too.

What have they got themselves into.


End file.
